


4 Times

by brunetteinaunionjack



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Original Character Death(s), POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunetteinaunionjack/pseuds/brunetteinaunionjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She saw him in her life 4 times. A look at the Doctor from the view of an outsider. Slight Rose/10</p>
            </blockquote>





	4 Times

I saw him in my life 4 times.

The first time I was just an 8 year old girl. Too young to know what was going on, but old enough to remember. It was March 2nd, 1994. For anyone else it wasn't a particularly important day, but for me it was the first time I saw the Doctor. I was very...prissy when I was a child. I didn't like getting my frilly dresses dirty and I never played in the mud with the other children. While all of them were running around playing tag, you could find me inside, straightening and organizing my tea sets. That day, my mum forced me outside. She was sick of me sitting inside 'getting no social interaction'. She pushed me and my older sister outside. My sister simply ran off to the park next to our apartment after she spotted her friends. I eventually followed but instead of playing I just sat on a park bench, observing my surroundings. That was when I saw him. It was only for a moment. The tall man in converse ran past me, straight into an old police call box with a blonde woman following. I thought it was strange that a 50's police call box was in Cardiff in the 90's. But what was even stranger was when it disappeared.

The second time I saw him, I was 15. Older and a bit wiser but I was still naïve and ignorant of the Doctors power. I was taking out the trash and I looked a far cry from my 8 year old self. I had turned into quite a tomboy. I only wore trainers, simple t-shirts and jeans. My hair was constantly up in a ponytail and I got down and dirty as much as possible. I got to the last stair and he was right in front of me, a blonde hanging onto his hand. He spoke to me this time. He simply asked me directions to the nearest hotel. The way he asked it though, it was frantic. As if him finding the hotel was life or death. I told him of course, but I was distracted. I couldn't stop staring at him and the blonde girl holding his hand. Neither of them had aged a bit.

It was Christmas when I saw him the third time. I had moved to London for college and was feeling awfully lonely. My family moved to America for my dad's work and all of my friends were with their own family. I was alone. I didn't plan for that Christmas to be exceptionally exciting. Just me sitting on the couch eating Chinese and watching cheesy movies. But that Christmas the aliens attacked. I forget what they were called but they caused at least 1/3rd of the world to be suicidal. Everyone was standing on the edge of bridges and buildings, nearly about to jump. My family was okay but my best mate and flat mate, Laurie was one of the people ready to jump. I was scared to bits. I was nearly crying with relief when everyone snapped out of whatever the aliens were doing to make them do that. Later that night I called Laurie and walked outside to the street so I could flag down a taxi to take to her family home. That was when I saw him. He was standing there in the snow, leaning against his blue police box with the blonde girl again. She was grinning, looking up at the snow but he had a grim look on her face. I saw him say something to her and the smile fell. I almost wanted to go and talk to him, ask him about the strange disappearing box and why he didn't age. But the moment was theirs. I couldn't intrude. Besides, something inside me told me I would see him again. I could always ask him then.

The fourth and last time I saw him I was dying. Aliens in London, again. It seemed to be a pattern. Him and London and aliens. They were all 3 connected somehow. The Doctor was there. He held me in his arms as the life went out of my eyes. He kept repeating, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry." with tears in his eyes as if he thought my death was his fault. I was distracted by those tear filled eyes. Those brown, old eyes. They looked like they had seen hundreds of years of pain, sorrow, loss, death. But they had also seen love, life, friendship, laughter, and happiness. They'd seen everything. The Doctor had seen everything. I told him I had seen him before, I asked him if he could share it with me. The mysteries of his life. I barely registered what happened next. I saw the Doctors life flashing before me. Hundreds of years of life. 10 bodies. Countless friends. Happiness, sorrow. I saw it all. I was honored. The Doctor shared his story with me.

I died with a smile on my face because I finally knew the mystery of the man that had haunted me unintentionally my whole life. I learned the story of a man who was unlike any man I had seen before.


End file.
